Songs from the Bardo adds immeasurably to the body of art inspired by The Bardo Thodol; it is presented without sensation, artificial drama, or tension. It is not only lovely and moving, but profoundly instructive, as only the best art can be.

The collection concludes with its title track, a dreamy blend of starry arpeggios and reflective yet buoyant pianos. A magnificent release from an act who have remained DFA's most reliable signing without ever sticking to a tried-and-true formula.

The songs are filled with good humor and wry details, the music played with exuberance and casual virtuosity, a combination that amounts to an outright celebration of the many things that makes Texas great.

In concert, the Replacements sounded like a tighter version of classic Replacements, and the same can be said of the Matt Wallace version of Don't Tell a Soul, which is why Dead Man's Pop is such a blessing: this set helps make this era seem like a grand farewell from the band instead of the beginning of a messy end.

Fires for the Cold isn't quite up there with Dylan's Blood on the Tracks or Bruce Springsteen's Tunnel of Love, but as a vocalist and songwriter, this represents Tolchin's best and most convincing work to date, and it speaks of experience in such a way that his songs truly match the weary edges of his voice.

By choosing to take on the subject [mental health] head-on, they've crafted an album which is half-noise rock record and half-audio representation of Kiely's mind. While it may be a struggle to listen to for anyone caught unaware, it's that same struggle that makes their output so captivating as an experience.

The record gets better when the sci-fi murk lifts and a song comes into focus, which happens more often on the second half, when Simpson relaxes enough to offer up a bit of good ZZ Top funk ("Best Clockmaker on Mars") and a blues shuffle ("Mercury in Retrograde"). But songs aren't the point of Sound & Fury. As the title makes plain, it's all about the sound and fury, noise that grabs hard and eventually softens its grip.

Going by the natural charm of the album and the fun Mahalia seemed to have in making it -- the smile cracked in the chorus of "I Wish I Missed My Ex" is the clearest evidence -- she might only be getting started.

One hopes that M.C. Taylor's dark clouds have parted, but on Terms of Surrender he's taken his troubles and made something beautiful and inspiring out of them. If you want to use music as therapy, this is the way to do it.

Rappers Johnny Venus and Doctur Dot break up their unhinged, nasal flows with moments of jubilant soul harmonies ("Top Down"), bounding upbeat acid jazz instrumentation ("Blue Moon"), darkly experimental beats ("Avenue"), and different approaches and coloring on almost every track.

When it's good and the band comes across as confident and focused, it feels like they made the right choice to head off into the pillowy dreamland. Other times, when a duff synth sound or a tinny drum machine lets them down, it's hard not to miss the traditional Moon Duo approach.

Neither as endearingly fragile nor as transcendently healing as his previous two volumes, Abundance is nonetheless a fulfilling and soulful work, worthy of the Red River Dialect canon.

III moves at a deliberate, nearly dreary pace that forces a listener to pay attention, and while it can take some effort to meet the Lumineers on their own terms, it's nevertheless easy to admire the ambition behind the project.

After a unifying, spirit-lifting house warm-up that almost sounds live enough to have been recorded at a small loft party, Something Like a War gets down to private business. Vulnerability, patience, action, and uninhibited expression are all upheld as imperatives for intimacy.

Turn to Clear View isn’t as ear-opening as other dates Armon-Jones had a big role in this year -- namely, Ezra Collective's You Can't Steal My Joy and Binker Golding's completely unhinged Abstractions of Reality Past and Incredible Feathers. That said, it's a fitting addendum to the sound explored on Starting Today and well worth repeated listening.

One True Pairing is an equally welcome return and introduction to his music.

Roberts' body of work is consistent enough that The Fiery Margin doesn't necessarily stand out, at least in comparison to his traditionally oriented work as opposed to more experimental efforts such as 2018's What News. But as an acoustic artist exploring the lineage of Scottish folk, he's a major talent, and this album captures him in splendid form.

This is music that takes its time but is never less than absorbing and rewards repeated listening. Chastity Belt's musical evolution has been a fascinating and rewarding thing to witness, and this may be their smartest and most compelling music to date.

Although Robertson's delivery often veers toward the hammy -- he relishes the B-movie gangsters on "Shanghai Blues" and hisses out “hardwired for sex” as if was a snake lying in the grass -- there are pleasures to be had in this upscale affair.

It's a soothing and inspiring listen, especially for fans who love vintage sounds and period details as much as Gonzalez does.

Memory isn't just their best record, it makes good on all the promise they displayed early on and will hopefully shut their critics up once and for all.

Not a game-changing comeback by any means, Cause and Effect is instead a satisfying return to form that manages to gracefully age Keane by invigorating a familiar formula with wisdom and honesty learned over a dramatic, life-changing decade.

Gallagher isn't as potent a personality as he was a quarter-century earlier, but his middle-aged control has its charms, too. He sounds relaxed on Why Me? Why Not., maybe for the first time ever.

Howard's embrace of all the mess of life gives Jaime its sustenance. Her audacity is apparent upon the first listen, but subsequent spins are profound and nourishing.

Okie is a laid-back collection of original songs that are more poignant and more nakedly autobiographical and topical than anything he's previously issued.

The musicians find a common ground within the eerie mysteries of old folk tunes and turn those strange sounds into something reassuring, if not quite comforting.

The amount of detail and craft that goes into Efterklang's music is deeply appealing and, slow moving as it may be, listening to Altid Sammen in its entirety is time well spent.

While Nine is by no means a dour emo record, it carries enough emotional heft to elevate it as one of blink-182's strongest late-era efforts, one that matures the typical blink sound with its commitment to vulnerability and honesty.